


Hello, sadness

by Iolanfg



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Greg is Sweet, M/M, Mycroft Feels, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings, No Angst, Protective Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 06:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19784701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolanfg/pseuds/Iolanfg
Summary: Greg smiles slightly as he wakes up, his gaze stopping at the figure of his lover in the window, watching the sunrise, the lines of the old poem, which always makes him think of Mycroft, reproducing itself in his mind.Mycroft fears the morning.





	Hello, sadness

**Author's Note:**

> Sherlock is by Doyle, Mycroft and Greg are based on the characters of Gatiss and Moffat.   
> Greg's poem is by Paul Éluard  
> (La vie immédiate, 1932), that is, nothing is mine.
> 
> Response to the challenge of the Facebook group Mystrade os our division: a fic with the word Morning.
> 
> English is not my first language, this was translated with the translator Deepl, I regret any error. Thank you for reading.

"À peine défigurée"

Adieu tristesse  
Bonjour tristesse  
Tu es inscrite dans les lignes du plafond  
Tu es inscrite dans les yeux que j'aime  
Tu n'es pas tout à fait la misère  
Car les lèvres les plus pauvres te dénoncent  
Par un sourire  
Bonjour tristesse  
Amour des corps aimables  
Puissance de l'amour  
Dont l'amabilité surgit  
Comme un monstre sans corps  
Tête désappointée  
Tristesse beau visage.

"Hardly Disfigured"

Goodbye sadness  
Hello sadness  
You are inscribed in the lines on the ceiling  
You are inscribed in the eyes I love  
You are not quite destitution  
Because the poorest lips denounce you  
With a smile  
Hello sadness  
Love of bodies which are kind  
Power of love  
Whose kindness sprouts  
Like a disembodied monster  
Disappointed head  
Sadness lovely face.

Greg smiles slightly as he wakes up, his gaze stopping at the figure of his lover in the window, watching the sunrise, the lines of the old poem, which always makes him think of Mycroft,   
reproducing itself in his mind.

"Adieu tristesse  
Bonjour tristesse  
Tu es inscrite dans les lignes du plafond  
Tu es inscrite dans les yeux que j'aime"

Mycroft fears the morning.  
It's not like he ever said it. But Greg knows it.  
The morning it's like starting over to spin in an endless circle, the same routine, the same stories, the same empty smiles, the same meaningless conversations, the same mistakes, the same fears.

The morning is bright, noisy, oppressive and tedious.  
An avalanche of sensations that attacks her nerves.  
He is a man of the sunset, he loves the soft lines of darkness, silence, stillness.  
The night helps to think, calms him and protects him with its shadows.  
The morning is violent, blinding, the night is relaxing.  
The morning takes him away from Gregory, the night brings him back.  
Greg watches him in silence, a part of him wants to attract him to his side, tell him that everything is going to be fine, that every morning is a new opportunity: do what you didn't do yesterday, say what you didn't dare to say yesterday. Mix in the bustle of the city, dive into the amalgam of colors and smells that invade every corner and make him full of energy.  
There is something fatal about the end of the day, thinks Greg, when the shadows fall and silence imposes itself, making your thoughts resound with force, reminding you of your mistakes, what you should have done and didn't do, what you shouldn't have said and you said.  
There is an absurd sense of melancholy in it.  
But there is also a persistent melancholy in Mycroft.  
Everyone sees the armor, the cold sufficiency of the analyst, Greg can see the sadness in his eyes, in the lines of his beautiful face, in his tired smile.  
The melancholy for the family he had one day and could have had if madness had not prevailed, what could have been their lives.  
The sadness for the deaths and the pain he could not avoid.  
It's not that Mycroft is incapable of being happy.  
He's happy when Greg comes home from work, when they chat and watch a movie huggeds on the couch.  
But even then there is a shadow there that tells him he doesn't deserve it, that the morning will come and with the clarity of the day Gregory will realize that this is not his place, why he is bright as the morning light, and Mycroft belongs to a world of darkness.  
That's why he always gets up before he Greg wakes up, why if that's the morning Greg decides it's over, he needs to be prepared, to have the mask ready with which he hides his vulnerability.  
Greg gets up, hugging him from behind, intertwining his fingers, kissing his cheek and seeing the lines on his face replaced by a smile.

\- Good morning, love.

Yes, there will always be a trace of sadness in Mycroft's soul. Both are wounded men, after all.  
But one day, soon , there will be no more separations just after dawn and Greg will teach him not to fear the morning, just as Mycroft taught him not to fear the night and its ghosts.  
Sadness will always be there, it's inevitable, but so will Greg.  
And he will see to it that she does not occupy more than a minimum space within her soul.  
They will never be able to throw her out completely. So they will say good morning to her every morning, together, in that same window, knowing that their existence is inevitable, and then they will go on with their days, not letting her settle into their lives.


End file.
